


the home stretch of the hard times

by procellous



Series: tumblr prompt fics [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi, POV Theon Greyjoy, Robb Stark Lives, Robb Stark is King in the North, The OTV in the North, mentions of Euron Greyjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25301875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous/pseuds/procellous
Summary: It’s not that Theon can’t fall asleep without his lovers in bed with him. He just doesn’tliketo.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark/Sansa Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Series: tumblr prompt fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889671
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	the home stretch of the hard times

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "A kiss on the top of the head"

It’s not that Theon can’t fall asleep without his lovers in bed with him. He just doesn’t _like_ to. The bed is large and empty and…it’s not cold, exactly, not under the furs, but he misses having his pair of person-shaped furnaces in there with him. 

Unfortunately, His Grace the King in the North and his Lady Hand are still busily at work, arranging taxes or something else equally mind-numbingly dull yet important, and probably will be for a while yet. Theon had been too tired to actually work on anything, and him yawning every five seconds was distracting all three of them, but now that he’s in their large, soft bed alone, he can’t actually sleep. 

He stretches out under the furs and quilts, groaning, and thinks longingly of becoming one with the blankets. Or, failing that, going back out to the solar and curling up on a chair there. He probably wouldn’t be able to actually fall asleep like that—somehow, he’s lost his wartime habit of being able to sleep anywhere, unlike Robb—but it would be better than staring at the ceiling thinking about how tired he is. 

He’s _so_ tired. 

He must fall asleep at some point, because he wakes covered in sweat from a dream he doesn’t want to remember. 

The door creaks open. Robb slips in, the moonlight slanting across his face. His curls are a mess, sticking up in odd points from where he’s run his hand through them. There’s a smudge of ink on his cheek. It’s endearing in ways that Theon can’t begin to process. _When I’m done with you, I’ll make you watch as I—_

“Sorry,” Robb says, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Theon smiles, sitting up. “I was already awake.”

Robb must notice some sign of what happened, because he asks, “another nightmare?”

“Yeah.” He knows that Robb knows what happened, at least the vague shapes of it, but he still hates acknowledging that it happened at all. 

Robb kisses his forehead, running a comforting hand through his hair before turning and undressing for bed. Some other night, Theon would be watching him hungrily, undressing as well, but he’s too tired and so, from his movements, is Robb. 

He slips underneath the furs, pressing his cold feet to Theon’s shins and making him yelp. 

“If that’s how you’re going to be, I’m kicking you out,” Theon says. 

“You wouldn’t.” Robb kisses him. “You’d be too lonely.”

“That’s what Sansa is for.” 

“You’d miss me.”

Theon doesn’t have a good retort for that, because it’s true. 

Robb curls around him, an arm slung over Theon’s waist and up under the hem of his shirt, warm and solid and strong. 

“I love you,” Robb says, kissing the top of his head. “If anyone ever tries to take you away again, I’ll run them through and then feed them to Grey Wind.”

“I know.” _Euron is dead_ , he reminds himself. _He can’t hurt them_.

Robb nuzzles his neck, molding himself to the curve of Theon’s back. “Go to sleep, Theon. You’re safe. We’re all safe.”

Theon listens to Robb’s breathing even off into sleep, his arms tightening around Theon’s middle. Robb likes to cuddle in his sleep; it was annoying when they were younger, but over the war it became a comfort, instead. 

The door creaks open, and Sansa pads in. She’s already half-undressed, her gown unbuttoned and her hair falling out of her braids. Theon watches through unfocused eyes as Sansa changes into her nightgown and braids her hair into the pair of braids she sleeps in. 

“How’s the kingdom?” Theon whispers as she crawls in beside him. 

“Still standing, at least,” she whispers back, brushing a stray lock of his hair away from his eyes. “Bad dreams?”

“The usual. Not even dreams so much as memories.” Sansa knows slightly more about what happened, only because Robb had sent her to treat with Euron instead of going himself, and even she doesn’t know most of it. 

She kisses the top of his head, tucking herself around him so that he’s surrounded by his lovers. “And how are you feeling now?”

“Safe.” He smiles. “Hard not to, when there’s a giant guard dog clinging to me.”

“I heard that,” Robb grumbles, tightening his grip around Theon’s waist. 

“Are you not, though?” Sansa asks.

Theon can’t see Robb, but he knows that the King in the North is sticking his tongue out at his little sister. 

He smiles, closing his eyes, and drifts into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
